She evolved a dim image of herself cooped up in a house under the benevolent shadow of Mr. “My dear friend,” she laughed, “not so tragic, if you please. "It's all over," groaned Wood, "and perhaps it's as well her senses are gone. . ‘You mean I should give myself a dressingdown? Very well. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. ” “I suppose,” said Constance, stencilling away at bright pink petals, “it’s our lot. But did any woman get anything better from a man? Perhaps every woman conceals herself from a man perforce!. He was detained.
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